Indian River deputy Teddy Floyd working to transform his community | Video

Deputy Floyd is well known for his community involvement, but at what sacrifice.

SARAH GRILE  sarah.grile@scripps.com
VERO BEACH - Teddy Floyd, a deputy with the Indian River County Sheriff's Office, shares a moment with Gene Perna, of Vero Beach, on Wednesday in front of his home. Perna, who has been living in a FEMA trailer in his driveway since the 2004 hurricanes, has finally been able to find help to repair his home and fix the drainage problem in his yard. Perna's wife said that Deputy Floyd, who helps head the organization Every Dream Has a Price, Inc. with Julianne Price, is the "funniest looking angel I've ever seen."
photo taken on June 19, 2008

Indian River County Sheriff's Deputy Teddy Floyd and an unidentified senior citizen were nearly struck by an out-of-control Toyota Avalon Wednesday morning on U.S. 1 north of 20th Place. After the crash, Floyd assisted the woman across the street.

FILE PHOTO
Jahkari Carter, 3, waves to his great-aunt, Audrey Williams, as Deputy Teddy Floyd, of the Indian River County Sheriff’s Office, carries him around as the former home of Ernestine Roker is torn down in 2011. Floyd has been a fixture in Indian River County for decades, taking local kids under his wing.

FILE PHOTO
Indian River Sheriff’s Office Deputy Teddy Floyd (center), has helped coach the Vero Beach High School football team for many seasons.

FILE PHOTO
Teddy FLoyd spends many afternoons at Vero Beach High School helping to coach the football team.

ERIC HASERT/TREASURE COAST NEWSPAPERS
Julianne Price (right), president of Every Dream Has A Price, and the group's vice president Teddy Floyd, watch a front end loader prepare a lot for a foundation.

Tony Brown, left, the president of the Indian River County NAACP, and deputy Teddy Floyd of the Indian River County Sheriff’s Office, talk about the former Gifford Gardens Apartment complex that currently sits vacant. Since the last tenants were evicted earlier this year, the empty buildings have been used by transients, drug users and prostitutes.
CQ: Tony Brown, Teddy Floyd
IR gardens1.jpg
TAKEN: October 7 2010

SAM WOLFE Correspondent

Every Dream Has a Price

What: Nonprofit that takes abandoned houses that have become venues for criminal activity and transforms them into homes for the needy

GIFFORD — In the 20-minute drive from his Gifford home to his Indian River County Sheriff’s Office substation, Deputy Teddy Floyd slows to a near stop at least a dozen times.

He waves at drivers who honk to say hello.

He hands a $5 bill to a man riding his bicycle down the street.

He shouts: “I love you baby! I got your back!” to a labor worker he calls his cousin. To Teddy, everyone is “cousin.”

Then, the 6-foot-tall, 250-plus-pound man takes the opportunity of a red light to turn up his radio for a few seconds and do a little dance in his deputy truck.

“Break. It. Down,” he says, chuckling along with the other drivers enjoying the quick show.

This is the giving, friendly and always lively Teddy seemingly everyone in the Gifford community has gotten to know and trust over more than 23 years. The Teddy who spends his free time coaching football and mentoring troubled youth. The Teddy who rebuilds torn-down crack houses for needy veterans and the elderly.

Community guardian

Teddy’s cellphone alarm goes off at 5 a.m. every day.

The ringtone, a gospel song called “I Need Your Help,” is a reminder of what his job is all about.

“To me, being a cop isn’t just about the cuffs and the guns and getting the bad guys,” said Teddy, 50. “It’s about being a social worker, an advocate and a stepfather to every young person here. It’s about making sure people don’t turn into the bad guys. That’s what I get excited about every day.”

The law enforcer won’t leave his house without two things in his truck: a Bible next to the driver’s seat to guide him, and a football, which he uses to play with kids in the neighborhood in an effort to build a rapport with them.

“Deputy Floyd’s compassion, his ability to communicate with all, allows us to solve many crimes,” Indian River County Sheriff Deryl Loar said. “He’s touched so many young men’s lives, that when they see, smell or hear something that’s going on, they go to Teddy and let him know.

“If every law enforcement department had 10 Teddy Floyds,” Loar added, “what a more effective country we would have.”

Teddy has had men knock on his door in the middle of the night to turn themselves in. In 2007, Teddy’s source relations helped expose a large-scale drug ring headquartered in West Wabasso and Gifford, he said. The drug scheme had brought $1.1 million worth of cocaine every week to Indian River County.

Teddy’s relationship with the community also has helped him find candidates for the nonprofit he helps to run, called Every Dream Has a Price. Since 2006, the organization has taken abandoned houses that have become venues for criminal activity and transformed them into homes for the needy. So far, seven homes have been torn down and rebuilt.

“Ten years ago, I heard about an officer named Teddy who was doing good things in the community. I wanted to see what he was all about,” said Price, president of the organization. “He has more than proved himself. Teddy is an incredibly busy man who takes on way too much, but his passion fuels him to really transform people’s lives.”

His other uniform

When Teddy leaves work every day — and when he’s not at a community meeting of some sort — he takes off his uniform to put on another one: a black and red jersey he wears to help coach Vero Beach High School’s Fighting Indians football team.

Teddy has been coaching football since he got out of college at Florida Agricultural and Mechanical University in Tallahassee, where he was a member of the football team. He coaches high school and Little League, too, taking the opportunity to get boys off the street and into sports.

“Being an officer protects these kids, but I want to actually be in their lives,” Teddy said.

Teddy has coached many of the young men in the Fighting Indians football team since they were young boys.

“I’m from the bad parts of Gifford, and Coach Floyd picked me up in third grade. He told me I had the size to be a football player, and told me he wanted to see me on the field and go off to play college football,” said 19-year-old Terry Jones, who plays for the Fighting Indians and is 6 feet and 2 inches tall.

“I thought, well, he’s from the same parts of Gifford as me, and if he could do something good, I could, too,” said Jones, who hopes to go to the NFL someday or become a performance engine builder.

“Honestly,” he said, “if it weren’t for him — man, I’d be in the streets, in jail or dead right now.”

Before Gifford

Pastor Teresa Floyd calls her son a “miracle child.”

He was born with heart complications, and when he made it through, she knew she wanted to give her firstborn a name that started with “t” — as in “thankful.” She chose “Teddy.”

“He was the kid in the neighborhood who would grab his red wagon and go down the street asking neighbors if he could be handy. He was the kid in day care who always wanted to be the helper,” said Teresa, who leads Faith and Deliverance Ministry in Vero Beach.

In Jacksonville, where they grew up, Teresa often took the long way home when riding in the car with Teddy and her six other children. She made sure to drive through bad neighborhoods to show them not everyone was as fortunate as they were.

At home, Teddy’s father was rarely in the picture because of his busy job as a concrete finisher. And, when he was home, Teddy’s father sometimes physically and emotionally abused Teresa before they divorced in Teddy’s 20s.

Teddy’s escape was football, and the idea of someday becoming a law enforcer.

“I wanted to become a cop because I wanted to protect my mom,” Teddy said. “I wanted to protect women and people in her situation.

“And I still talk to my dad, too,” he added. “I forgive him, because that’s just part of being a Christian.”

Family

While going to school at FAMU, Teddy met his first wife. He left school to start a life with her in her hometown: Wabasso.

Shortly after his move, the sheriff’s office hired Teddy. He quickly became dedicated to the job, spending hours working with the community, as he does now.

But it affected his family life. After more than 12 years of marriage and a daughter together, Teddy’s wife filed for divorce.

“This job did cost me my first marriage,” he said. “I was completely at fault. I didn’t spend enough time at home. I became so close to the job, that I forgot about my family.”

Teddy has been married to his current wife, Terri, for six years. In total, they have six children they consider theirs, even if some are from former relationships. They also have five grandchildren.

“I’m married to a busy man, and yes, it takes time away from the family. But if Teddy couldn’t do what he’s doing with the community, well, it would be something,” Terri said. “I’ve learned to adapt to his work habit, to the calls he’s always getting and to people just showing up at our home to ask him for help.”

Together, Terri and Teddy live in what he calls his dream home: the security house at the Gifford Youth Center.

“I have a football field in my backyard, a pool in my front yard, and I’m in the heart of the community. I’m living the dream,” he said.

Teddy doesn’t know if he’ll stay in Gifford forever. He sometimes thinks of moving somewhere like North Carolina to start rebuilding a needy community there. Then he thinks of his history in Indian River County and changes his mind.

But Teddy knows one thing: “I’m a cop for life.”

Deputy Teddy Floyd’s memorable moments

Dancing Deputy

In 1996, Teddy picked up the extra duty of directing traffic while construction crews worked on Oslo Road.

The summer sun was hotter than usual, and motorists were using their horns to express aggravations over the slowly moving traffic. But all Teddy could hear and feel was the music in his head and a wiggle in his hip.

“Man, I started breaking it down in the middle of the street,” Teddy said. “It was the way I kept the focus on me and not on the construction and traffic. When drivers got to me, they couldn’t help but laugh.”

Teddy’s dance party while directing traffic didn’t just catch the attention of drivers, but also of the Associated Press, which picked up the story of the “dancing deputy” and landed Teddy in newspapers across the country.

“When the AP called me, they were like, ‘It’s not too often you see a cop having fun on the job,’” Teddy said. “Me — I’m always having fun on the job.”

Crossing the road

At the Vero Beach intersection of U.S. 1 and 20th place, Teddy often saw the same elderly woman with a walker crossing the street slowly. He’d watch with concern, holding his breath until she made it to other side.

One day in June 2012, Teddy decided he’d stop traffic to help the woman cross with no danger as she carried three grocery bags and a suitcase. But as Teddy approached the woman to assist her, a driver lost control of his car, and the Toyota went barreling onto the sidewalk and straight toward Teddy and the senior citizen.

Teddy swooped up the woman, ran and dove onto the grass, just barely out of the car’s way.

“I thought we were dead. I said, ‘Lord, why me? I’m just trying to help this woman,’” Teddy said.

The driver of the Toyota was treated at the hospital for minor injuries. After recovering from the initial shock, Teddy helped the woman up and completed his task.

“I continued to help her across the street. When we got to the other side, she turned around, said ‘thanks,’ and kept walking. I was like, ‘That’s it?’” Teddy said, laughing.

“It was a yogurt diet for me after that,” he joked. “I could’a ran a little faster out of the way.”

Fear

In his early days on the job, Teddy and his partner were searching for a man who’d committed multiple homicides and was on the run in the area.

The deputies tracked the armed man down in a vacant building.

“We knew he was in the building, and we had searched everywhere and knew which room he was in,” Teddy said. “And for a quick second, before going into the room, I got scared of never seeing my family again. That was the first time I felt that on the job.”

Teddy made his way into the room just as the man was getting away through a window.

Officers later caught the man in Brevard, Teddy said.

Every Dream Has a Price

What: Nonprofit that takes abandoned houses that have become venues for criminal activity and transforms them into homes for the needy